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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766260">Willow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose'>Shaderose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A big huge hug, Abandonment Issues, And wants to be them, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attemped running away, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Ending, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harley Keener has Abandonment Issues, Harley is hella jealous of morgan and peter, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Like a big one, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Platonic Jealousy, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Running Away, So many tags oops, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, While also being a Sad Boi, harley keener has daddy issues, tony stark is a dad, uhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:54:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He sighs, and drops his hand back down, feeling stupid, pathetic all of a sudden, ignoring the light throbbing of the side of his head.</p><p>He shouldn't even be here. Why did he come here? He had known he couldn't stay in Rose Hill, but he should've gone somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Anywhere where he was wanted.</p><p>~~</p><p><strike>“13-year-olds are the meanest people in the world”</strike> / <strike>middle school</strike> / <strong>jealousy</strong></p><p>~~</p><p>
  <em>I wouldn't leave you,<br/>I would hold you,<br/>When the last day comes.<br/>What if you need me?<br/>Won't you hold me?<br/>On the last day,<br/>Our last day...</em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Pepper Potts &amp; Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) &amp; Tony Stark, Harley Keener &amp; Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Willow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 7 folks!<br/>This is one more Irondad again, with Parkner hinted throughout and shown at the end.<br/>It also kinda hurts a little? Sooo buckle up yall 😂</p><p>Hope you all enjoy!! 💞❤💞</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Down by the water, under the willow</em><br/>
<em>sits a lone ranger, minding the willow</em>
</p><p>Harley sits by the shore, listening to the steady stream of water slip by him, hearing the bubbling, the crashing of the river over the rocks, the faint buzzing of the bugs flying around him and the whistle of a breeze through the trees, brushing against his skin. He feels himself finally settle, feels his fists loosen into a eased hold, feels his shoulders lower, his jaw fall back, his eyes close. Forces himself to feel the itch of the burning sun on his skin, the warmth flooding over him easily in the mid summer day, and let's out of a breath of air he didn't even know he was holding. For once, for a split second, he feels peace. Calm.</p><p>Until he hears a high pitched scream come from behind him, and all of his progress is gone. His shoulders are raised like the hackles of a spooked cat, his jaw is tense, his eyes flying open as the joyful shouts and screeches continue. He takes a long, long inhale, before looking over his shoulder at the scene, immediately tasting bitter on his tongue, a pit settling in his gut.</p><p>
  <em>He and his wife, once lived happily</em><br/>
<em>planted a seed that grew through the reeds</em>
</p><p>A little girl is running, holding something shiny in her tiny hand as she weaves around the man giving her chase, looking so so very different from how Harley remembered him. And acting different, too, from the way Tony reacts when the little girl- Morgan, he remembers numbly- turns around and yells something with her hand extended, revealing what looks like a knock off replusor on her palm. Tony fakes shock, his eyes bulging as he places his hand (his <em>only</em> hand now...) onto his chest, and falls to his knees, his face scrunching as he obviously tries to play off a winces, before he collapses into the grass. Harley can't help the flinch, and has to glance away, repeating to himself over and over that its just play, even as his mind screams at him that it almost <em>wasn't.</em></p><p>He continues to stares back into the stream, watching his morphed reflection come into focus as he hears another squeal from behind him and an whisper of "you saved me!" echoing across the field. He stares at his muddled self, his face and shoulders stretched by the water, his stomach churning even as he feels numb, and has the fleeting thought of <em>'is that what I looked like when i-'</em> before he smacks his head with a fist, suddenly, roughly, and breathes deeply through his gritted teeth, the sudden flare fading just as fast as it came, leaving him back on empty. He sighs, and drops his hand back down, feeling stupid, <em>pathetic</em> all of a sudden, ignoring the light throbbing of the side of his head.</p><p>He shouldn't even be here. Why did he come here? He had known he couldn't stay in Rose Hill, but he should've gone somewhere else. <em>Anywhere</em> but here. Anywhere where he was <em>wanted</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Summer and winter, through snowy December's</em><br/>
<em>Sat by the water, close to the embers</em><br/>
<em>missing out the lives that they once had</em><br/>
<em>before</em>
</p><p>Harley remembers the first time somebody left. Faintly, <em>barely,</em> but he does. Its mostly emotions, now, and snapshots. He heard yelling, which had been the usual to his younger self, normal, but it had sounded louder. Angrier. Scarier. And so, he had felt scared, worried. He remembers seeing his father rush past him, remembers his mom screaming <em>something</em> at him, remembers her teary face with almost perfect recollection, illuminated by the yellow lights of their hallway, her tears and spit shining off of her face, her cheeks and bottom lip, her face anger, bitter, but anguished, her eyes looking so <em>lost</em>. And then, a slam of the door. Little Harley had known something bad had happened, but he hadn't known just <em>how</em> bad until later, until one day before bed, as his mom was tucking him in with a faint smile, so rare even back then, when he sat up and asked when daddy was coming home, and when his moms face had hardened, and she had told him that he <em>wasn't</em>.</p><p>The second time, he remembers clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. Of course he would remember, it's not everyday a little kid from buttfuck nowhere meets <em>the Tony Stark, Iron Man himself</em>, much less get to helps him out and save his life a few times while at it. He remembers being so excited, so <em>hopeful </em>that it was a turning point in his life, that it was when the world would decide that Harley Keener was <em>good</em> and deserved something better than bullying, than his mom working all the time, than him having to take care of his sister 24/7, than <em>this</em>. Especially when he had come home a few days after and found his whole garage renovated, and the signs, he had thought maybe <em>maybe </em>things would be different now. Maybe he could do something, be brave, stop the bullies. Maybe he could have a dad. Maybe he could be <em>happy</em>.</p><p>And so he had waited. And waited, and waited. Just as innocent, naive, <em>stupid </em>as he was with his father, he had been with Tony, waiting and hoping for <em>nothing,</em> nothing more than a half assed Birthday card every year and some pocket change.</p><p>Then, the snap. The blip. When he had die- <em>disappeared </em>for five years, and came back to nothing, his house empty and in ruin. When he had called his mom, to no answer, and then his sister, who had screamed and sobbed when she had heard his voice. When he had discovered the truth, when he had found out Abbie was now seventeen, <em>his age, so so old,</em> found out that she was living with their <em>father that had left</em>, found out that their mother was dead. When he had tried to live there, too, only to find his father glaring at him behind his sisters back, telling him their life was better without him there, and Harley had agreed, knowing he was right. He should've stayed, even if he was hated and taunted. It was better than being pitied. Ignored. <em>Forgotten.</em></p><p>
  <em>Mr and Mrs, dreamed of a willow</em><br/>
<em>carving their names, into their willow</em>
</p><p>Sometimes, he'll stare at the pictures on the walls, and wonder.</p><p>Everything was so <em>different</em> now. With his life, with the world, with <em>Tony</em>. Back when Harley knew Tony, he would never have been caught dead in a wood cabin house if his life depended on it. That much was for sure, if him never visiting proved anything. And yet... here he was, a cabin house in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, with his wife and child. His <em>child,</em> another revelation that had swept Harley's feet from underneath him and stomped on him while he was down. Tony Stark had a <em>kid</em>, a <em>daughter</em>. Morgan Stark was four years old, full of fight and fury just like her mother, and smart witiness just like her father, and she was absolutely <em>everything</em> that Harley had longed to be oh so long ago.</p><p>She was different, unique. She was bright, and stormy, and way too smart for a four year old. She was soft, innocent to the harshness of the world, naive in a way Harley longed to be, a way he wished he could've been at her age, the way it <em>should</em> be. She was quiet, but talked back, didn't give a single fuck, and she was so unbelievably <em>loved </em>that it crushed Harley's soul into tiny, unrepearable pieces. By Pepper, by <em>Tony.</em></p><p>And Harley couldn't help but to think, what was wrong with him, then? Why couldn't Tony play, and laugh and <em>love</em> Harley like he did Morgan?</p><p>Like he did <em>Peter</em>. Peter, who was kind, and compassionate, even after all of the shit he's been through. Who was soft, and warm, like a freshly made cup of hot cocoa on a cold, bitter winters day, or a fuzzy blanket that just came out of the dryer. Who had bad days, and rough moments, and still <em>wasn't an asshole</em> even when he had panic attacks and nightmares, bags under his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Who was Spider-Man, and had helped in the final battle and had <em>watched Tony die</em>, and <em>s</em><em>till </em>came downstairs with a bright smile on his face most mornings. He was sharp words, and sharp angles, a hard jawline and rough features, a ragged scar on his chin and another smoother one on his cheek. He was soft, and hard, so unbearably kind and caring, and so fucking handsome that Harley couldn't stop himself from falling, and falling hard, even as he <em>yearned.</em> Yearned to look like him, to act like him, to <em>be</em> him and be <em>with </em>him and <em>in</em> him and <em>God</em>, even if he knew he didn't deserve him. How could a fallen angel like Peter be with a condemned demon like him, after all?</p><p>And so, he'd stare, at the photographs of the picture perfect family on the wall, of Peter and Tony working in a lab, seemingly before <em>everything</em>, of Pepper in the hospital holding a baby Morgan with a wide smile on her face and cheeks wet from tears, of Tony and Pepper holding a toddler Morgan in between them, smiles wide enough to break their faces, eyes shining and pride radiating off of them. He'd watch from afar, as Tony played with Morgan, as he ruffled Peters hair and teased him relentlessly, as he cared for them both so much, and with ease, and he <em>ached.</em></p><p>
  <em>If he had spoken, love would return</em><br/>
<em>spoken inside, too soft to be heard</em>
</p><p>He wanted to be apart of it, he wanted to <em>be them</em> so bad it hurt, but he knew he never would be, never <em>could </em>be. Tony didn't even look at him twice, much less Morgan or Pepper. The only one who spared him any time was Peter, with his warm smile and loud laugh, with his pushing shoulder and squeezing hugs and apple smelling shampoo, bringing out the best in Harley that he didn’t even know existed and God did it make him fall that much more. And even though he <em>loved</em> it, loved the attention Peter gave him, it wasn't the same type of attention, it wasn't the one he craved. Wasn't what Peter knew that he craved.</p><p>He would eat supper with everyone, as "tradition" (a tradition Harley nor Peter was there to help make, but one they kept up anyways, for some reason), and feel his heart cracking at Tonys jokes, Morgans giggles, Peters hearty laughs, Pepper's loving glances, even as she rolls her eyes. He would get dragged outside by Peter whenever the others would, and proceed to get ditched for Big Brother time with Morgan, who always wanted to learn how to swing and how to be a hero. He would flinch and wince at her occasional rare meltdowns, where she would scream and thrash until one of her parents put her into a corner, where she would sob loudly into the palms of her hands and Tony would shake his head and look to his wife, his son with thinned patience and despair.  He would sit on the opposite couch of the family as they snuggled together for movie nights, sharing a bowl of popcorn between each other, and making commentary on whatever movie was picked until the kids fell asleep, and the parents took them up to bed. Harley watched, and he hurt, and he ached, until one day, it all became too much, and he broke.</p><p>
  <em>Summers and winters, through snowy decembers</em><br/>
<em>sat by the water, remembering embers</em><br/>
<em>Missing of the life that they once had</em><br/>
<em>before</em>
</p><p>It was Tuesday, a few days later, when he finally reached his tipping point. A random day of the week, typical and normal like most days, most weeks, the sun shining and birds chirping, a laughable contrast to the storm in Harleys mind, the dark, rainy cloud hovering over his head, shadowing any glimpse of the light. He had decided the night before to put everything to the test, to see if his thoughts were true. He figured, someone <em>had</em> to notice if he didn't leave his room all day, if he didn't come down and force a smile on his face, if he didn't join them to watch the family from the outside looking in. Peter, Tony, hell maybe even Pepper or Morgan would <em>have</em> to notice his absence... right?</p><p>Except they didn't. Harley lay on his bed, on his phone, checking the clock every hour to watch it tick from 10am, to noon, to 2pm, to 4, to 6, watched as the sun rose and fell in the sky, casting shadows in different directions in his room, until it disappeared entirely, his room casted into darkness as his stomach rumbled and spasmed with hunger, until he couldn't help the bubbling emotions inside of himself anymore and sobbed, threw his phone across the room, laughed with tears running down his cheeks because how stupid was he? Why couldn't he take the hint? His father never came back, no matter how much he watched the clock. Neither did Tony. His mother had never come home from work early like Harley had wanted her too every time she left in the mornings. His sister had never called, or texted when she found him gone from their father's house one day. Why did he think this, today, <em>any day</em>, would be any different?</p><p>Harley is good for one thing, according to God, and that is being forgotten. Being Abandoned. Bring alone.</p><p>He can't stay here, he realizes, sits upright suddenly even as tears continue to spill, as his breathing shutters and his shoulders shake. He can't do this anymore. He can't stay and watch Morgan and Peter get everything he ever wanted without trying, he can't sit there and smile when he feels nothing but agony, and sorrow, and <em>exhaustion</em>, he can't- he can't-</p><p>He stands, wobbly on his feet as his mind spins from lack of food intake, which he just shakes off as he grabs a bag from under his bed and hastily rips open his drawers, grabbing handful of clothes he can barely see through his blurry vision and throwing them into the larger pocket, ignoring the wetness dropping off of his face and making wet spots on the fabric, his hands, his- the <em>Stark's</em> floor. He grabs whatever he can, as quickly as he can, all of the clothing that can fit, his wallet with a few twenties in it, his phone with a new crack through the screen that Harley doesnt even notice, his charger, before zipping up the pockets of the bag. He puts on his coat, a heavy denim thats old and ripped in multiple places, before swinging the backpack over his shoulders and leaving the room, not sparing another glance back into the darkness. He moves like a man on a mission, wiping the wetness of his face, only pausing for a second as he stops by Peter's door, shut closed with a light shining from beneath it. Harley considers knocking, for just a moment, before he shakes himself and forces his legs to move away, knowing Peter will be better off without him. Everyone always is.</p><p>He keeps his eyes forward as he paces down the steps, tunnel vision focused on the door and nothing else as he slips into his shoes easily and makes his way outside, not losing his stride as he shuts the door behind him and goes to step down the stairs and go... somewhere. Somewhere other than this. Other than <em>here.</em></p><p>"Kid?" Harley freezes, his foot in the air as his mind races, his face scrunching in confusion. He hadn't thought of what to say if he was caught by someone. He hadn't thought they would notice, or <em>care.</em> Especially not the man who he knows that voice belongs to. He turns his head slowly around, until he can see Tony's eyes seering into his own, seeking, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted, face blank as he searches for <em>something</em>. "Going for a walk?" He asks, low, quiet, as if he stumbled onto a sleeping bear and was trying not to poke it awake.</p><p>Harley thinks for a moment, before glancing away, shrugging. A walk, yeah. Something like that. Tony hums, and there's a few seconds of silence where Harley can faintly hear the stream, the buzzing of the bugs, the creaking of the porch swing swinging gently under Tonys weight, the racing of his heart, his heavy breathing.</p><p>Before there's more crackling, Tony shifting more on the swing before he pats the empty spot beside him and tilts his head in a come here motion. When Harley stares at him quizzitively, he just murmurs softly, "Its dangerous out now. Wait until morning, and then you can leave. I'll send a taxi to take you to the city, if you want." Harley snaps his back straight, like a live wire, wondering how Tony <em>knew</em> before the older man is rolling his eyes and huffing, an amused smile teasing at his lips. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I may have lost some brain cells while, you know, but-" He waves his free hand, makes a snapping motion, and Harley winces. "-Yeaah, too soon, huh? Pep and Peter say the same thing." He sighs, scratching at his graying beard, as Harley looks away again and thinks of a way out of this. He doesnt want to stay, he <em>cant,</em> not when the family's still here, not when he <em>doesnt matter</em>- Tony must have become a mindreader in the five years, too, as he pats the spot next to him again, and repeats, almost pleads, "Just for the night, kid."</p><p>And Harley doesn't know what it is in him that pushes his feet to turn around, and move back towards the porch, that makes his body sit beside the exact man behind most of his problems, placing his backpack in front of his feet, the seat groaning because of their combined weight, but holding, somehow, not unlike Harley's mind, fragile, cracking, strands braking more and more beneath the weight of his problems until one day, it'll all just snap apart and crumble into ruins.</p><p>He sits uptight next to Tony, who's leaned back, easy and relaxed, a stark contrast to Harleys raised shoulders, straightened back, clenched jaw and fists. He expects Tony to ignore him, forget his presence as he enjoys his night, before going inside and into bed next to his wife, falling asleep just like his children are, and then Harley can leave into the night without another word, and Tony can go about his life without another thought of the child he once knew, but then, like a firework crackling a crisp winter sky on new years day, "Can I ask why?" Harley doesn't look over this time, focusing solely on the peeling paint covering the railing on the front porch, the warm orange chipping away and revealing the original bright white underneath. "I'm not going to stop you, if you really want to go," Tony continues, voice a faint whisper, yet so loud, so clear to Harley, "But I would like to know why, if I can."</p><p>He can feel Tony's eyes on him, burning into his skin similar to the sun on the warmest day of the year, but Harley refuses to meet it, refuses to make eye contact as he shrugs again, and he was going to leave it at that, but then his mouth is opening to croak out, voice dry and breaking from lack of use, "I'm not needed."</p><p>Another hum of consideration, of acknowledgment, and another moment of feeling the breeze tickle his skin, watching the trees sway, hearing the ominous moaning it causes. "Why do you think that?"</p><p>"Morgan. And Peter." Harley answers without thinking, before gritting his teeth to get himself to <em>shut the fuck up</em>, feeling like an absolute idiot for telling a father that his kids are the problem. But Tony doesn't react angrily as expected, no, he just nods like that makes sense, like he knew the answer all along, but he doesn't say anything else. It leaves a feeling in the air, like the question is unforfilled even though he answered it, and Harley itches to fill the silence for some reason, feels words clawing up his throat, over his tongue and between his teeth, and before he knows it he's spewing out words without thinking, spitting out feelings. "Its just- you act like such a <em>dad</em> with them, and it makes sense, you know? Like, you are Morgans dad, biologically, and Peter is <em>amazing</em>, and it <em>makes sense</em>, why you hang with them, and play with them, and <em>love</em> them. I-It makes sense, but it also doesn't because- because you were never <em>like that</em>. Sure you were nice, but you never- never played tag, or made jokes, or ruffled hair, or said <em>I love you</em>-" His voice chokes up as the paint muddles in his vision, tears forming and spilling down his cheek. He doesn't notice, just keeps spilling, "And I just- you <em>left.</em> You left and you never came back, never- n-never called, never texted, never <em>cared</em>, don't care, still don't care, and I just- I dont <em>belong here.</em>"</p><p>He sobbed loudly, curling into himself more and more as he talks, as he breaks and crumbles and shatters, wrapping his arms around himself to try and keep himself from falling apart entirely, from crumbling into dust and getting scattered by the breeze. "You- you love them so much, and you don't love me, so- so why would I <em>stay?</em>"</p><p>"Bud," Tony sounds so sympathetic, and so sad, so unbearably <em>sad,</em> his voice thick, and then theres an arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him into a firm chest and Harley's breath stutters for a second, not used to the physical touch, before letting out a shuttering exhale, grabbing onto the man tightly and finally breaking down fully, wailing, the sound echoing throughout the valley, "<em>Why wasn't I good enough?</em>"</p><p>Tony let's out a breath, long and low, like he got punched in the gut, rubbing a hand up and down Harley's spine as he continues to cry loudly into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harley. I'm so so sorry." He says quietly, his voice wavering as if he's on the verge of tears too. "I shouldn't have left."</p><p>"Then- then <em>why?</em>" Harley gasps, and Tony shushes him softly, hand raising up to gently play with the hair on the nape of his neck.</p><p>"I was scared." He says simply, honestly, shaking his head, his cheek rubbing at the side of Harley's head as he does. "Back then, I was terrified of becoming like my dad, and you reminded me so much of myself that I just- couldn't. Or, didn't." He sighs again. "Thats not any excuse though, and I'm sorry, Harley. I regretted it, so <em>so </em>much when you were gone. I wished, every night, that I could take it all back and start again. Maybe give you a better life."</p><p>Harley mind spins with this revelation, this new information because it doesn't make sense to him. If he wanted to take it back, why didn't he- why wouldn't he- "But- but you didn't- you don't h-hug me, or hang out w-with me, or <em>talk</em> to me, especially not like <em>them</em> and-"</p><p>"Because I thought you didn't want it." Tony interrupts, sounding ashamed. "That you'd be- I don't know, upset, or bitter at me. Which is stupid, I'm realizing. Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought I was, huh?" When the attempt at a joke falls flat, Harley still sniffling and whimpering quietly, much quieter than before, Tony lays his head gently on top of Harley's, and whispers, "I'm sorry, bud. I really am. And I know it might not matter now, but I'll try harder. I promise I'll try."</p><p>Harley doesn't know <em>what</em> to say to that, and Tony doesn't push him to speak, just holding him close and rubbing gentle circles onto his back until his sobs turn into just shaky breathing and his tears slow to a stop. Harley reaches up, and wipes his cheeks, but doesn't move away from the older man, sniffling and feeling an odd sense of comfort at the smell of old gasoline, oil and sweat. "What about your kids?" Harley murmurs, speaking the last lingering thought in his mind that's stopping him from grabbing onto the shining beacon of hope and joy that looks way too good to be true right in front of his eyes.</p><p>Tony huffs out a faint laugh. "What do you mean, piccolo?"</p><p>"Your kids. Won't they be-" He grasps for words. "I dunno, <em>upset</em>? If- if you spend more time with me?"</p><p>"Saying my kids is kind of redundant, bub. You're my kid too." And before Harley can wrap his head around that bombshell that was so casually dropped, Tony is continuing as if he didn't even think twice. "But, Peter and Morgan? They won't mind. Of course they won't. Morgana is a hyperactive four year old who won't even notice I'm gone." That makes sense, he guesses. "And Pete's been trying to get me to sit down with you for weeks now."</p><p>Harley feels his face flushing, burning before he can stop it, his heart stuttering in his chest, and he hates how shy he sounds when he whispers out, "Really?"</p><p>"Really." The older man snorts. "Probably should've listened to him sooner. Much much sooner."</p><p>And Harley can't believe it, but he feels his chest tremble with a light chuckle himself, and nods once, mumbling, "Yeah, just maybe."</p><p>"Just maybe," Tony parrots as a sigh, one sounding much more upbeat, relieved than the ones before, and then, they sit in silence, comfortable this time, cuddled up together on the porch of the Stark cabin, just listening to the noises of the night.</p><p>And Harley? Harley feels... lighter than he has in a long, long time. He still feels the shadows of the bitterness and aches that echoed in his chest for so long, so so long, but its overwhelmed by the resounding amount of light and warmth flowing from his heart and overcoming his body. He knows that Tony, that <em>he</em> can't change the past, not anymore anyways, but... maybe they can change their future, maybe they can change <em>Harley's</em> future, together.</p><p>"I don't think I want to leave anymore." He whispers, breaking the silence with a finality he didn't realize he could muster, and when Tony finally pulls away, he gives Harley a look of overwhelming joy, of a paternal pride and love that Harley always wished for before pressing a firm kiss to his forehead, and it causes the chasms in his soul disappear, just for the moment, swallowed by the tsunami of ever emcompassing love.</p><p>And, a few months later, when he's sat on the family couch, cuddled into Peter- now his <em>boyfriend's</em>- side and laughing until his ribs ache, Tony giving him that same look of joy, twinkled with mischief now, Morgan on his lap giggling herself and Pepper hand on his arm, shaking her head and smiling wide, he'll know he made the right choice. He'll know that, even after everything, he is safe, noticed, and above all else, <em>loved</em>.</p><p>
  <em>I wouldn't leave you, I would hold you</em><br/>
<em>When the last day comes</em><br/>
<em>What if you need me, Won't you hold me?</em><br/>
<em>On the last day</em><br/>
<em>Our last day</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song in the fic: Willow by Jasmine Thompson </p><p>Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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